Tropical Distractions

[fredless]

Who:Fred, friends and YOU
What: A bonfire and evening to enjoy with friends
When:Second evening after arriving
Where:Down at the Beach
Rating: PG?


All things considered, it didn't seem that threatening. But Fred would never sit all that well with being yanked into unfamiliar settings without permission, and this was no different. After the rising waters, they first few hours on the ship had been especially difficult. It brought back too many specific memories. Still, a lot had happened between then and now -- and after a few hours it at least felt like she could breathe again.

And there were things that held some appeal.

Like the beach. There were memories as well, much more pleasant memories. And unlike the four seasons room, which always felt a little less than real? Fred couldn't help but think all that water actually lead somewhere. The air certainly tasted real enough, hot and sticky on her tongue. Everything soon started to carry the slightest whisper of salt.

She'd spent the day with Wesley exploring, and somehow they'd tumbled their way into fishing. It was something she hadn't actively done in years, not since summers with her folks on the Gulf. But it all came back to her, and soon they'd caught more than she knew what to do with. Fred didn't recognize the species, but the locals assured her they were edible enough. One idea tumbled into the other, until a sturdy bonfire was lit against the fading afternoon light. A dozen fat fish sat wrapped in palm leaves around the base of the fire, and a cooler rested nearby filled with a variety of fruit and drinks.

All that remained was to jot an invitation in her journal to anyone that might be interested.

Fred moved to settle into one of the higher dunes, watching the tide as it came in again. She was still in her suit, a simple sarong knotted at her waist. It might get cooler later, but for now she was content to catch the last of the sun on her shoulder and enjoy the sound of the waves.

Comments

[supes]

Spandex is a lot more practical than that plastic stuff, too.

[loisfuckinglane]

... Annnd a little harder to come by. [At a Halloween store]

[supes]

True. Actually, I don't know how I'm getting it fixed back home. It's easy enough to ask for a new one here, but I somehow doubt I'd ship it to mom every time I needed it fixed.

[loisfuckinglane]

If this is your friendly way of saying I need to learn to break out the needle and thread, you can think again, mister.

[supes]

[Laugh.]

I'd sooner ask you to learn to cook.

[loisfuckinglane]

Treading dangerous water there, Smallville.

[supes]

And heading back to port. How hard can sewing be? I can probably pick it up in ten minutes.

[loisfuckinglane]

And so could I, if I wanted to.

[supes]

Ah, but would you want to?

[loisfuckinglane]

... There's a reason I said "if".

[supes]

Ah-ha. [Grin.] I'm glad we're so far from "traditional."

[loisfuckinglane]

Keeps you on your toes.

[supes]

It really does. Good thing Smallville isn't exactly "traditional", either.

[loisfuckinglane]

[A laugh.] Or Metropolis, once you came along.

[supes]

[He smiles.]

That too. I don't think I'll ever get used to the big city mentality, though, no matter how much I love the city itself.

[loisfuckinglane]

You can take the farmboy off of the farm....

[supes]

Never. It'd be forgetting where I came from.

[loisfuckinglane]

I really don't see that happening.

[supes]

Nor do I, thankfully.